An Unusual Collection
by Heletherel
Summary: What if, in the Tekken universe, the Collectors made an early attack on earth, daring to venture beyond their reclusive hideout past the Omega 4 Relay to carry out a mission that was supposed to be quick: to capture every contestant of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 6. Who will find a way to escape the seeker swarms and destroy their masters, and who will end up as reaper food?
1. Chapter 1

A block away from the King of Iron Fist Tournament Arena, a lone ninja perched in the narrow space between the fourth floor of an apartment complex and an old, brick office building. As he kept himself effortlessly suspended with his feet against the former and his back against the latter, he pulled a miniature cell phone from the pocket of his black leather slacks and held it to his ear.

"The spies have been dealt with. You have my attention now," he reported in a deep, rough voice.

"Oh…okay, good…"came the shaky response, interspersed with waves of crackling static, no doubt an effect of the shaky voice's uncontrollable sighs of relief. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Though his voice was clear of emotion, the dark-skinned, leather clad ninja barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Whew…"

"Carlson, remember the mission."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. He just stopped the car, I mean, van. We're 3.15 miles away from the arena-oh! He just got out. I dunno why."

"Got anything with him?"

"I don't see anything in his hands. No one's following him, either, except, uh, me. From a good distance, of course. He's just walking off into the woods. Oh, crap, I can't see him anymore!"

From between the ninja's lips flashed a set of moonlit, gritted teeth as his face twisted with concern.

"Can you get closer?"

"I don't know if I should. He wouldn't just abandon his car like that, anyway, would he? He's gotta come back." There was more crackling, most likely the sound of the man's fingers tightening around his receiver.

"You need to get him back in your sight. You never know if…"

"What could he possibly do? He's just one guy. Honestly, I'd be more scared of the spies than the 'commander.' He's probably just going out there to take a piss or something. He's been driving out here for…3 hours and 27 minutes, without stopping a si-AAAGHHhh…."

"Carlson!" The ninja's face was lined with worry on top of scars as he back-flipped to the top of the office building. The haunting sound of his midnight-colored scarf whistling in the evening wind was accompanied by only static from his device, intermingled with the unmistakable huffs and puffs of a dying man's final gasps.

"hhh…hh…"

"Damn it!" The ninja considered just crushing the tiny phone in his hand, or throwing it to the alley floor below and letting it shatter. No, that would be unprofessional. He might as well hear what this murderous madman had to say, if he would say anything at all. He shook his head at his own foolishness. He had thought sending one man would be better than an easily detectable team, but obviously, he had picked the wrong person. Carlson had been improving his skills so quickly that the ninja had thought it safe to assign him this task. But, as always, he had underestimated the perils of trying to track his nemesis's schemes.

There was a crackling from the phone.

"You lose." There was a short laugh, toneless. "…Raven."

"Dragunov-"

Crunch.

That was the noise made by the opposite phone as it was smashed under the unforgiving heel of the Russian assassin's boot.

Raven could no longer resist it. He stepped to the edge of the office building and hurled his phone to the alley's depths four stories below, letting his arm complete a full, supernaturally swift swing in the process. As he gave a glance to the arm now extended in front of him, he caught something odd. Upon his wrist perched what looked to be first a leaf, then, judging by the weight and further inspection, a large insect, with black, inverted legs and a pale green exoskeleton. He had just drawn one of his kunai to spear it when he felt a set of fangs pierce straight through his leather gauntlet and into the back of his hand. Grunting with a sudden surge of pain, he was about to swat at the little monster when his whole body suddenly seized up and he found himself lying motionless on the rooftop. There he lay, helpless as he watched the bug fly off…into the ever thickening, sky-broad swarm it had spawned from.


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. The Collectors are basically making a concentrated attack on the city which hosts the King of Iron Fist Tournament. The only people they actually want to abduct are the contestants, possibly to be used in some sort of prototype human reaper.**

**Keep reading and enjoy! Don't forget to review. :)**

"You can do it, Lars!"

The pink-haired, smiling girl's shout of encouragement was lost in a restless sea of cheering fans. The great, unrelenting volume of the twenty thousand spectators filled the arena with echoes that reverberated off of its colossal glass roof and metallic walls. This bombardment of sounds was so intense that the girl's audio system automatically shifted into a reduced state, effectively turning the incessant screams and shouts into mere whispers. Now her brain chip could finally focus on the scene that her visual receptors were fixed on.

There at the center of the arena stood her friend, Lars, facing off against the enigmatic wrestler known as King. Though a few bruises were forming on Lars's face and arms, it seemed he would be the victor this time around. King had barely managed to get back to his feet after his latest punishing kick to the chest, which had no doubt damaged a few ribs. Seething with rage, Lars's foe charged at him for a final time.

Lars ducked out of King's path, evading the attempted tackle with ease. Before his foe could recover from the miss, Lars sent a solid, unnaturally powerful kick straight to his stomach, catapulting him into the boundary ropes a good five feet away. King slumped to the floor and stayed there.

Alisa stood and clapped in her white gloves like a classical concert patron as the arena around her exploded into wild cheers and passionate screams. As Lars smiled and posed for the crowd, the sound of sprinting footsteps approaching from behind drew away her attention. She turned to face the wall and the open exit doorway through which a girl she knew by the name of Asuka had just been running. Whirling around to grab the open door, Asuka slammed it shut with panicked swiftness. She turned to Alisa and was about to say something when her thoughts were distracted by what appeared to be a large green insect crawling up her leg.

"No-!"

Suddenly, Asuka was lying on the ground behind Alisa's chair, still as a corpse.

"Miss Kazama?" Alisa began as worry crept into her emotion chip. Suddenly, just past the muted cheering, she made out a faint humming, almost a moan. It came from above.

Looking up to the glass roof, Alisa was horrified to find the evening sky completely black with a thick swarm of those very same insects. Just beyond the swarm, however, was something far worse; what looked to be a giant, hovering structure that blotted out the sky.

Something glowed an electric yellow. That was all that Alisa could see before the roof was shattered into millions of crystal shards with a rending scream and the hostile swarm engulfed the entire arena. The cheers surrounding her were instantly transformed into terrified screams as everyone's vision was blackened by endless flurries of insects.

Alisa alone was unaffected by their bites. As human as she felt, with warmth pulsing from her battery, she failed to succumb to the strange paralysis that washed over the crowd and contestants in one evil, black wave. In a matter of seconds, the swarm had taken to the skies, leaving Alisa still standing among a sea of the fallen. Her experience recorder began to overload and she fell to her knees as the battery in her core began to drain. Normally, the peaceful silence all around would have been calming, but now it seemed so unnatural. Where had all the noise gone? Even with her audio receptors working at full power, she heard nothing but the sound of her own synthetic innards processing her occasional shifts of movement with nearly silent whistles and clinks. At last she felt stable enough to get to her feet, then proceeded to use the jets on her back to glide to the stairway that descended to the center of the arena. Now at a proper vantage point, she scanned the unnervingly silent room. Not a single man or woman stood. Cringing, she looked to the stage on which her friend had just been standing. A huge scorch mark coated the empty white floor, eerily parallel to the shattered opening in the roof. Some kind of powerful beam must have done the damage, and in the air in its wake, Alisa detected traces of a strange energy source, completely incomparable to anything on earth.

"Lars?" She called, holding her head in a human gesture of confusion.

"Alisa!"

The girl's head whipped towards the source of the sound. There, standing behind her, was what her visual receptors almost identified as Jin Kazama, her master. But she interpreted the unusual man as a stranger, judging by the enormous black wings that encircled his body and the intimidating set of horns that jutted from his bangs. His eyes were a distant, pale color and the long black coat that was so classic for the young fighter hung in tatters around the added appendages.

"How do you know me?" Alisa, in her shock, forgot about controlling her jaw gears, causing her mouth to gape open with a level of surprise equal to a human's. The being before her was entirely organic, but nothing else on earth had such a bizarre appearance.

"…I am Jin Kazama," the creature told her.

"You cannot be!"

"The swarm…did this to me. I was bitten and couldn't move and…the devil gene within me panicked. Now, because of them, my dark side has awoken. At least it seems to have rendered me immune to…" his claws gestured to the paralyzed crowd, "…to this."

"Can you really be Jin Kazama?"Alisa asked with a tilt to her head, trying to pick out as many similarities as she could between the creature and her master.

"Sadly," the demon sighed, "I am."

Alisa sighed along with him, directing her vision receptors at her feet.

"…We have to do something."


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is for the Xiaoyu/Panda fans. More of a lighthearted scene. Some grittier ones will be coming up soon...mwahaha. :)**

**Please Review!**

"Panda, I can't breathe!"

Xiaoyu commenced pouding against her trained guardian's furry white chest as she felt the last of her air getting crushed from her lungs. For an unknown reason, her faithful pet had decided to tackle her to the floor of her hotel room just as she was planningto leave for an impending tournament match. For the past five minutes, she'd been pinned to the floor and practically smothered as a strange buzzing noise washed over her senses, unable to see or feel anything but the panda's furry stomach and the carpeted floor.

Finally, daylight reached her as the beast crawled up onto its hind legs, allowing her to get to her feet.

"Why did you do that, Panda?" She questioned in stern, piercing Chinese, directing a displeased frown at her pet. The creature only gave a soft snort in response, gesturing to the hotel window at Xiaoyu's back. The girl whirled around in flurry of black pigtails and orange silk sashes, pushing open the already half-ajar curtains to discover a disturbing sight on the streets below.

Everyone who had been going about their usual business moments ago seemed to be fast asleep; not only those on the sidewalks but those in their vehicles as well, since not a single car or truck was moving. Most of them seemed to be backed up against one another, in fact, and the engines were still running. That was the only sound Xiaoyu could hear. The silence was so absolute now that she couldn't resist taking in a deep breath just to break it. Then, at last, movement caught her eyes and she saw the giant black object soaring across the evening sky. It was roughly cylindrical, looking to be mostly composed of huge, stone slabs and strange black metal.

"It's coming towards us!" Xiaoyu realized. "Panda, quick! We need to get to the roof!"

The animal immediately obeyed Xiaoyu's command, pulling the little girl onto her back and promptly crashing through the hotel door into the silent hallway. Panda turned as directed and charged down the empty hallway, smashing through a metal door marked with a stick figure walking up stairs and carried Xiaoyu up the stairwell. At last, they reached another, much rustier door and Panda bashed it from its hinges, emerging onto the open rooftop, no longer sunlit due to the menacing shadow of the spaceship just above. It was hovering surprisingly close to the far end of the hotel, though it was just above them, and Xiaoyu urged Panda on. She was determined to board it and get to the bottom of things. Taking a moment to draw in a breath and brace itself for the challenge ahead, Panda scowled in an expression closely mirroring Xiaoyu's: determined and fearless. Then, with a mighty roar, it began to sprint across the rooftop at top speed, retaining as much momentum as its big black paws could possibly gather.

"I'm holding on tight, Panda!" Xiaoyu assured. "Jump!"

The beast obeyed, soaring into the air in a triumphant leap, aiming for what looked to be a door on the side of the metal end of the ship. Panda's claws just barely caught onto the top of the frame, digging into the metal with their razor tips. To Xiaoyu's surprise, the two of them plummeted a good six feet before coming to an abrupt stop; the result of the frame falling open, revealing an entrance to the interior of the ship. Panda just barely kept her grip and quickly began scrambling onto the newly opened plank as the ship began to swerve away from the hotel, effectively eliminating any opportunity to go back. Xiaoyu momentarily glanced up to notice a slightly translucent patch of the ship with a series of dark figures looking through it. There was no doubt that they'd already been spotted.

"Keep going, Panda!" Xiaoyu urged, overcome with a smile as her daredevil side defeated her cautious one. At last her pet managed to haul the two up them onto the plank and nimbly scurried into the ship. Xiaoyu was surprised to find that the hatch was quickly closed behind them. As if…they were wanted here.

Dismounting Panda, Xiaoyu was about to survey her surroundings when something black clamped over her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is very sad...a Tekken character dies ;_; Sorry to the Tekken fans, but I thought including this chapter was important in order to show just what bastards the Collectors are.**

**Review! :)**

The world that she had been blind to for days slowly came into focus.

Asuka could only remember a moment of eye contact with the robot girl known as Alisa and then the sight of that bug crawling up her leg. Then she had been paralyzed and her vision faded as it was clouded by the black swarms all around her. Now the sight before her was tinted a faint, glassy amber. She was about to raise an arm to rub the heavy feeling from her eyes when she found herself unusually stiff, though at least able to move; some of the paralyzing poison was no doubt still circulating in her. Not only that, she was suspended in a strange sort of thick, cloudy gas, which she was able to breathe but unable to see very clearly through. She was stuck like this in a coffin-sized black pod with a front window that went from her head to her knees.

Now Asuka leaned forward, determined to see past the haze that was her prison. She first caught sight of movement and a lanky black body with something heavy and dangerous looking in its insect-like arms.

What _was_ this?

"Hey!" She called, confused but unafraid. Looking closer, she found the black body nowhere in sight but was disturbed to find a long row of pods identical to her own lined up against the opposite wall, crisscrossed with tubes and wires. The faces were shrouded in the same strange gas as she was, but she managed to recognize all that were at least partially visible as fellow King of Iron Fist Tournament contestants. There was the bright white hair and black blazer of Lee Chaolan. There was the angelic white uniform and long blonde tresses of Lili Rochefort. There were even the shadowy sunglasses and leather ninja suit of the mysterious Raven. Asuka was surprised to see him here. So not even a true ninja was able to protect himself from those swarms. All of them were seemingly asleep and perfectly secured within pods identical to Asuka's. It couldn't be a coincidence. But who, or rather what, was behind this?

Suddenly, Asuka's vision was obstructed by a black, humanoid figure that stepped before her and stared her down with four ominously glowing eyes. Even after all her strange encounters during her time at the Tournaments, Asuka couldn't help but gape in horror at this creature, so emotionless and coldly intimidating.

"What the hell?" She shouted, unable to come up with a unique choice of words.

The four eyes squinted all at once, focusing on the face before them. Asuka raised a stiff arm and jabbed it at the blank face before her, making a small thump as it hit the glass-like pod. "What's going on?!" She demanded to know. There was only silence in reply.

The creature slowly lowered to a crouch and vanished from Asuka's vision as she began to pound against the front of her tiny prison, resolving to break out and confront the creature at once. She gradually built up more focus and managed to give the thick window a hairline crack with one of her strikes. Immediately, she was met with the consequences of such an act.

A hiss like that of an angered viper drew away Asuka's attention. Within her pod, something was changing; the gases she had been breathing for the past two days were being vaccumed and something new was being pumped in. It was of the same color, yet there was an obvious difference. It burned.

"What?! What-! No! _No!_"

Asuka clawed at the glass wall of her death cell like a desperate animal, forgetting all of her lifelong training. She did not forget, however, her trainers; her father and his dojo; her cousin, Jin and his ill-fated side of the family. Her old rival, Lili, and her friend, Xiaoyu. The many foes she had faced, both in and outside of the Tournaments. Even the little kitten she had saved from falling off an awning.

The hands that were so frantically trying to break open the shell around her were beginning to turn black and dissolve. She could only scream in a mix of pain and fury as she tried again and again to pound the container open, with diminishing returns. Was everyone else fated to suffer such an awful death? Did anyone escape? Why did that strange creature do this to them in the first place? With wild eyes that were slowly going blind, she searched the opposing pods. Everyone else was asleep. Asleep, but unharmed.

"_Help! Someone wake up! Someone do something!_"

Just before her vision faded into the desolate gray it was approaching, she locked eyes with a barely recognizable face. It was one of the faces veiled in a stasis pod identical to hers. Someone was awake!

The face leaned forward until its pale, scarred nose was almost up to the glass that trapped it. The moment she saw the eyes, pale and thin, though unusually wide with alarm, Asuka remembered the person's name. It was another fellow tournament contestant: Sergei Dragunov. She had never spoken to him before.

He raised a single, trembling hand, clad in a shining black glove, and let it splay out against the glass wall of his own prison. As always, he watched in silence, horrified silence; watched, as the girl barely six feet away was burned until he could barely recognize her. Her hair was scorched black, her clothes were scorched black, her face and hands and neck and shoulders and arms were all scorched black as she continued to scream like a tortured beast and thrash about in the prison that would enclose her final moments of life. Her fingernails raked down the walls that caged her. Then the nubs of her blackened fingers took their place. Finally, she could only pound at the glass with the stumps that used to be her hands. Those hands, once perfectly proportioned, astoundingly strong and dexterous, had been destroyed.

"_You have to help me! Help me! Help!"_

Asuka watched the eyes that watched her, unable to look away. Then, the black monster that had sealed her dreadful fate strutted past her and broke her stare.

When her eyes returned to the black-haired, white-faced man, his comforting eyes were closed in mock unconsciousness. His hand was no longer up against the glass, but stiffly at his side. He had seen it all and could see no more without making his own awareness apparent to the murderous guard.

Seconds later, Asuka's screaming was cut short and her body withered into grey slime.

**So how horrible was it? What was the saddest part? Don't be shy...review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A treat for the Dragunov fans! (such as myself) :) Gritty, but fun. Lots of fighting ('cause that's what Dragunov's all about.) Enjoy and review!**

The slow, thumping rhythm of footsteps finally faded. Dragunov opened his eyes.

In place of the screaming girl who had been burning away right in front of him, there was only hollow space and silence. Her prison alone was empty, but all the others that he could see were filled with sleeping tournament contestants, trapped and helplessly motionless. No monsters were in sight. This was his chance to escape.

A spider web of thick cracks appeared on the glass front of Dragunov's would-be tomb as he rammed his knee into the thinner surface with carefully built-up force, no doubt bruising himself in the process. Yet he still hadn't done as much damage as he had expected. Something about the gases in the pod was weakening him. It took a good deal of effort just to stay awake. Not only that, the glass was thick and had obviously been made to resist even the heaviest of beatings. But there was no going back now. If that guard was to return, he would certainly notice the crack in the front of the pod.

Though Dragunov had barely half a foot of extra space to build up momentum, he did his best to rear back his stiffened fist and strike with all his force at the newly made weak spot. A few thick shards of the amber tinted glass shot from their place and fell to the fleshy ground, causing the strange gasses in the pod to begin leaking out with an all too familiar hiss. To his relief, it was being replaced with ordinary air, but the hissing noise it was making might draw unwanted attention. He would never forget how that creature soullessly rewired the helpless girl's stasis pod and simply continued his rounds as she burned alive, screaming and _screaming_ and fighting until her very death. Did the monster not even realize what it had done to her?

As panic crept into Dragunov's system, it gifted him with an adrenaline surplus that was just enough to shatter the glass containing him with a carefully placed kick. Great shards slid from their place and clattered to the floor, and he half stumbled, half collapsed out of his prison, dropping to his hands and knees in the middle of the hallway. Quickly glancing from side to side, he noticed that ominous black figure just as it rounded a corner at the right end of the long corridor. It hadn't noticed his escape.

Dragunov slowly crawled to his feet and began to walk in the opposite direction; moving with any extra speed would prove impossible with the effect of the gases, combined with the effort of smashing open his cell. He passed by multiple pods, all filled with familiar faces, but didn't stop to give more than a glance at any of them. He had to get away from that guard. It could return at any moment.

Before him the hallway narrowed, still lined with pods, before forming a doorway into a large room of the same fleshy, black texture. Both the hall and the chamber beyond pulsed with a strange, greenish luminescence that oozed from the ceiling and the walls. It was as if he was walking through the intestines of a giant demon. In the dimly-lit distance, he began to notice humanoid, black figures (much like the one before) pacing through the room. Under normal circumstances, he would charge at the figures and challenge them, doing everything in his power to snap every last bone in their feeble little bodies with pure offensive force. But he was far from being in top shape right now. Being paralyzed for 48 hours wasn't exactly his idea of warming up for a colossal fight. He would have to play things stealthily for the moment.

Without a second of warning, one of the alien creatures rounded the corner behind the doorway, and would have met face to face with Dragunov if the latter's reflexes hadn't been quite so quick. Before those four glassy, white eyes had a chance to focus on the hallway before it, Dragunov had slid in between two of the stasis pods and flattened himself against the wall. His pale tan uniform and paper white features were garishly noticeable against the dark surroundings, though all he really needed at the moment was the pods to hide behind. But he could hear those same menacing footsteps coming closer. If the creature was to walk past him, he would either have to gamble on going unnoticed, or act fast and try to kill it before it had the chance to notice him hiding there. Did he even have the strength for a fight?

Just then, the black figure, with its crested, flat head, walked into his view. It was about to turn those eerie eyes his way when the human lunged at it, wrapping one arm over its neck and closing his free hand over where he thought its mouth would be. With a burst of panic-strength, he pulled it from the center of the hallway, dragging it until his own back was up against the slimy material of the wall.

Dragunov could feel the creature's giant muscles pulsing against his grip. It was vastly stronger than an average human. Usually, he would be able to handle extra energy from an opponent, but even with adrenaline pumping in his veins, his weakened body could only hold out so long against this creature, which still held what looked to be some sort of heavy, futuristic rifle in its claws. In moments it would break free and either shoot him or call to its brethren in the room beyond.

Dragunov was not about to let that happen.

He took as deep of a breath as he could, given the imminent perils he was faced with, and, with a single, desperate lunge, locked his jaws around the creature's neck, allowing both his hands to continue stifling it as he dug through layers of tough, ropey skin and muscle. The inside of his mouth was instantly coated with thick, paint-like black blood that drizzled over everything it touched, both the human and his alien foe as well as the floor and the walls and the stasis pods that surrounded them. Pushing every muscle in his jaws, Dragunov forced himself to grind his blackened teeth even further into the creature's throat, finally succeeding in carving through another layer of slimy flesh. He was rewarded with a small puff of air that told him the monster had just exhaled through a hole in his windpipe, never to inhale again. If these things were anything like humans, this would be the end. To Dragunov's relief, it was.

He finally let the creature go and it thudded almost silently to the ground. The rifle was immediately pried from its stiff fingers and now rested in the black gloves of the (formerly) White Angel of Death. Around ninety percent of the front of his body was coated and still dripping with the oily black blood of the alien. Now _that _was the camouflage he had needed just a few horrible moments ago.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bryan Fury makes an appearance in this chapter! :) What's he up to? Find out!**

Across the hallway, Dragunov noticed an opening in the gap between two of the pods, leading into another slightly wider corridor. He quickly darted across to the doorway, gun in hand, leaving the disgusting scene behind him without giving a single glance back. The hallway he found himself in was slightly brighter, and though most of the walls were black, some patches of the ceiling gave off a soft glow that was closer to yellow than green. It seemed…safer, in a strange way. He hoped that from here he could find some means of escape from this strange labrynth.

He was approaching a corner that led to a branch of the hallway and debated turning down it, but decided to keep moving forward. He didn't want to get any more lost than he already felt. He was just beginning to glance down the branch to check for enemies when his vision flashed in a flurry of blindingly bright colors and a horrible surge of pain raked over his skull. A fuzzy haze retracted from his eyes and he found himself looking at his hand, which was splayed out against the gooey ground, keeping him upright. His newly acquired weapon had been dropped in the process. Something had knocked him to his knees.

Trying to figure out the source of the attack, Dragunov forced his weary head, which burned with pain at his right temple, to swerve to the side, catching sight of a pair of black, laced boots and wrinkled blue pants. This wasn't one of those creatures. But who could possibly be working with them?

Dragunov staggered to his feet, backing a step away as he held his throbbing head in his hand. He forced himself to focus on the figure that had attacked him and he finally managed to distinguish the gray hair and scarred face of none other than Bryan Fury.

That was all he saw before Bryan's metal fist connected with inhuman force against his forehead, just missing his nose, and sent him tumbling across the hallway to the opposite wall, where his head slammed violently against the tire-like surface. He was sure he could feel his brain rocking back and forth against his skull as he slumped onto his side, crippled. There he stayed, still conscious due to sheer willpower but completely disoriented. The pain was so intense and the concussions he'd received were so severe that, momentarily, he was given the delusion that he was back in his lousy, abuse-riddled childhood, causing him to begin incoherently pleading in slurred but otherwise flawless Russian, lost in a fog of overwhelming pain. Just as his eyes began to roll back and a normal person would have fainted, he blinked rapidly, forcing his blank vision to finally grow clear. He found himself staring up at the glowing ceiling at a crooked angle from the floor, unsure of how he'd gotten there. He was so confused that he didn't even try to move. Not even when Bryan Fury's hulking figure blocked his view and crouched beside him.

Two huge hands gripped Dragunov's shoulders with an abrasive suddenness and dragged him up against the wall, propping him up. Then a rough set of fingers gripped him around his jaw and jerked his head from side to side, trying to jar him back to his senses. At last the hand released him and Dragunov's head snapped back into place with a sudden awareness, locking eyes with his attacker.

"It seems the animals are trying to escape from their cages." Bryan grinned, then burst into laughter as his hand easily caught Dragonuv by his wrist, blocking an incoming strike. It was all that he'd had the energy to attempt. "Was that supposed to hurt me?" Bryan taunted. "If I wanted to, I could snap your little wrist like a dry twig. You've seen me fight in the tournament."

Dragunov neither spoke nor struggled in response. His head drooped but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with a focused, immovable scowl.

Bryan laughed a second time, producing a repulsive noise on par with a sickly, choking cough. "You're barely awake enough to think, huh? It's time you get put back in your little crib. Don't worry; usually the gas works properly. If it does, you won't feel a thing when they melt you down. Trust me."

Bryan was momentarily blinded as a gob of saliva and alien blood splattered across his eyes. Then a boot rammed into his stomach and almost succeeded in knocking him onto his back. Dragnov gripped the wall with a shaking hand and began his best attempt at getting to his feet. But before he had thought it possible, a pair of all too familiar hands was encircling his throat and began crushing his windpipe, simultaneously forcing him against the wall.

"Try to enjoy your last moments of consciousness, won't you?" Bryan instructed as the wide-eyed, stiff-jawed man in his grasp only continued to struggle. "Now quit fighting. The…'Collectors,' are waiting for you. I'm just here to help them out."

The instant Bryan finished his sentence was the instant that a long kunai imbedded itself in his side, drawing sparks, not blood.

**Cliffhanger! Mwahaha!**

**Don't forget to review! Since you've gotten this far, tell me your favorite part! (It'd better not have been Asuka's death; that would be seriously sick.)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Raven returns in this chapter! I will probably be reintroducing Xiaoyu soon, and maybe Alisa. For now, we're still with Bryan and Dragunov.**

Dragunov was flung to the ground with superhuman force and was barely able to roll onto his back in an attempt to locate his mysterious savior, gasping in a much needed breath. With blurred vision he scanned the hallway, craning his neck to look up. He was only able to distinguish Bryan's figure charging at something out of sight. All he heard was shouting and the sound of his own head connecting with the slimy floor as his muscles gave out with exhaustion. For a moment he simply laid there, slowly building up some of his lost energy. At last he had enough to sit up, and was greeted with the sudden sight of a black-clad figure slamming against the wall beside him. It looked as if the person was going to collapse, but suddenly, it flickered into nothingness; simply disappeared. Dragunov turned to his right to find himself looking up at Bryan, who was busy searching for the first figure. Directly behind the cyborg's feet was the dead alien's gun, the one Dragunov had dropped only a few hellish moments earlier. Bryan was obviously distracted. Could Dragunov get to the gun in time? Would he even know how to use it?

He was just beginning to reach for the death-dealing contraption when another kunai was hurled Bryan's way. The half-robot swiped it out of the air before it could stick into him, causing the razor-sharp blade to ricochet off his metal fist and come hurtling Dragunov's way. Caught in the crossfire, he recoiled, covering his face with his arms, and the blade only succeeded in slashing his sleeve and skidding across the ground. The moment the danger had passed, he was reaching for the unclaimed weapon yet again.

His outstretched hand was promptly pinned under Bryan's boot. There was a crunch as his bones began to crack under the pressure, then another sound very similar to it as Bryan's fist connected with the other figure's face. The bundle of shadows rolled across the ground before finally coming to a stop in a dark patch of the room. This time, it didn't disappear.

Turning away, Dragunov finally noticed the kunai that had bounced off Bryan's hand. It was lying much closer than the gun, easily within reach. He snatched it up by its long tassel and quickly got a grip around its intricately knotted handle. Something was very familiar about this blade, so much so that Dragunov was subconsciously reminded of the scars that marked his lips and the bridge of his nose.

No sooner had the silver glint of the elegant weapon flashed through the air than it was imbedded in the back of Bryan's knee. An agonized roar pierced the air and it brought a smirk to the Russian's scarred face. He ripped the blade from its place, severing as many tendons and wires as he could in the process, but before he could strike again, a huge force slammed against his head, driving four iron knuckles into and almost through his skull. There would be no quick recovery from a beating of this degree. Bryan's strike had been powered by pure, pain-induced rage and was unusually powerful, even for a cyborg like him. Dragunov fell onto his side and could see nothing but the sick red of the blood trickling from his mouth and the glistening, beetle-shell black of that mysterious weapon, still just out of his reach.

Nevertheless, he stretched out an arm as if to touch it. Only to point a single gloved finger its way. After only a moment of hesitation, the mysterious figure ran by and snatched it up with ninja-swift hands.

Then Dragunov's eyesight faded into the gray of unconsciousness as Raven aimed the mysterious rifle and fired.

**I was once a villain like you...then I took a kunai to the knee. *heh heh***

**Review! I'm looking forward to anything you guys have to say.**


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